


Hell Hath no Fury, February 1975

by BobbyCrocker101



Category: Kojak (TV 1973)
Genre: 1970s, Attempted Murder, Detectives, Gen, Manhattan South, NYPD, New York City, Revenge, Shootings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-26 23:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21108596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BobbyCrocker101/pseuds/BobbyCrocker101
Summary: Bobby Crocker's school friend Benny Marino is dead, but what might have happened next?This is an original story set in early 1975,  a week after the Season 2 episode "Unwanted Partners".Feedback welcome





	Hell Hath no Fury, February 1975

**Author's Note:**

> None of the characters belong to me; I'm just playing with them for a while before putting them back in their box. No money is being, or will be made from this story.
> 
> I was 15 in September 1973 when "Kojak" first aired, and had other things to do. Now I'm retired I’ve finally watched this wonderful old TV show for the first time. I’m from the UK and have never visited the US, but have made use of the internet to gain information about the NYPD and the city of New York. I apologise in advance for any language confusion.
> 
> In the Season 2 episode “Nursemaid” (1974) Crocker’s ID shows him to have been born in 1943 which would make him 32 in 1975, but because he's occasionally referred to as being very young and is often called "Kid" or "Junior", my version of him was born in 1951 which makes him 24 in this story. In the season 1 episode “Deliver us Some Evil” (1974) Crocker mentions a sister, but since she's never referred to again, I've created my own version of her. She is the only 'biological' relative I'm allowing him to have. And as little is known about his back story, I've made up my own.
> 
> The Season 2 episode “Unwanted Partners” (1975) upon which this story is based implies that Bobby Crocker’s “old neighbourhood” is in the vicinity of Manor Avenue in The Bronx, but there is at least one other episode that refers to him as having grown up in Jackson Heights, while his friend Benny Marino is referred to as being “a wild man from The Bronx”. I’ve got round this by having Benny Marino move from The Bronx to Jackson Heights when he was a child, which is when he and Crocker met. 
> 
> Original characters: Molly Donovan, Artie Donovan, Rose Crocker, Father Patrick Ryan, Ray DeMarco
> 
> This story contains major spoilers for the Season 2 episode "Unwanted Partners" (1975), and minor spoilers for the Season 1 episode “The Corruptor” (1973), and the Season 1 episode “Dark Sunday” (1973). There are also bits of information included which appear in my story "New Beginnings".
> 
> The line about charity and forgiveness has been borrowed from the Season 4 episode "A Summer Madness" (1976).

Detective Robert “Bobby” Crocker sat at his desk working through the paperwork that had piled up during the past few days. He was alone in the squad room as it was his turn to be 'on call' through the night. Apart from the officers at the booking-in desk downstairs and the duty officer in the infirmary the only other person around was Captain McNeil who had been in meetings all day and was also catching up with his paperwork. So far all had been quiet.

He knew the lieutenant wasn’t happy with him. In fact just an hour earlier the man had actually thrown his work back at him and told him to his face that he wasn’t happy with him, and had then left for the evening. The fact that he'd arrived late for work that morning due to road works in the Midtown Tunnel hadn’t helped either. His mind had been full of other stuff and he’d forgotten about the road repairs and had taken his usual route without thinking. Yes, he knew he should have taken the Queensboro Bridge, but he usually took the tunnel as it provided a more direct route to the precinct. 

“You need to move," the lieutenant had told him, and not particularly kindly. 

At the moment he was living in an apartment in Queens, on 85th Street, because it was cheap, and because Jackson Heights was home, and because the NYPD had rules about its personnel living in the same borough as they worked, although Captain McNeil apparently didn't have a problem if his men chose to ignore that rule, preferring his people to be readily available if needed. 

The lieutenant didn’t like his men using the subway to travel to and from work, so when Bobby had been 'promoted' to detective he had been assigned a take-home car, which made the journey to and from Manhattan a lot easier given the irregular hours he worked. Even on a good day the journey could take forty minutes each way. Of course the down-side of that was that it meant he was on call 24 hours a day, and if anyone should request the lieutenant’s presence on a case, Bobby would always be called out as well, and expected to be the first detective on the scene and have everything organised before the lieutenant showed up. This was one reason why when he got some leave he actually left: getting out of the city or at least making sure he was well out of range. 

He rubbed his temples, trying to ward off the headache that was slowly building. Molly, his foster mother had phoned earlier to let him know that his friend Benny’s body had been released to his family and his funeral mass had been arranged for the following Tuesday. Bobby was unsure as to whether he should attend given that he had been one of the officers at the scene when Benny was killed, but the final decision had been made for him when the lieutenant had bawled him out for being late in. He’d then decided under the circumstances that it wouldn’t be a good idea to request time off any time soon.

Benny: they’d first met at high school when they were 11 years old. Benny had just moved with his parents to Jackson Heights from The Bronx. The two boys quickly became inseparable and Benny had thought it was really cool that Bobby had recently changed his surname, and had decided that it must be because the other boy had witnessed some terrible crime and was now part of the witness protection programme. He smiled as he remembered the wonderful Sunday lunches Benny’s mother used to make. It was from her that he’d learned the few phrases of Italian he knew.

Images from the night Benny had died came unbidden into his head. In his world everything that could have gone wrong had gone wrong and Bobby was angry with himself for assuming he knew better than the lieutenant, for pushing his point: that he could persuade his friend to hand over his gun and surrender, even though Benny had made it perfectly clear he would never go back to prison. And despite knowing the man had an unaccounted for 9mm in his coat pocket, Bobby had still been shocked when Benny had opened fire on him and thanked God for his quick reflexes. Benny’s final words still rang in his head,

“We’re the same people you and me Bobby," but Bobby had known that wasn’t true, not any more. Benny had wanted to take over from his uncle and be ‘King of New York’ and was offering Bobby a place at his side, but only one person can rule at a time… Bobby had tried to keep his mind on his job and shut Benny out. Then things had got personal, with Benny cruelly reminding him of incidents from his past in the hope of unsettling him. It was at that moment he'd finally seen his so-called friend for what he was. As Marie had said only the evening before, he and Benny had changed. Yes they had, they'd grown up. He'd made a life for himself away from the old neighbourhood, and had a career. He’d fought in a war, proudly serving his country, while Benny had got into some trouble and had ended up serving a deuce in Attica Prison. They lived in different worlds now, while Marie was still looking at the world through rose-coloured glasses; in her mind still living in the old neighbourhood, in the past; like a dizzy teenager, thinking that everything would be fine now that the three of them were back together. He had been shocked when she had appeared from the elevator just after Benny had been killed, and thankful that Stavros had quickly ushered her back inside and had taken her downstairs to the lobby.

Bobby remembered sitting on the floor looking down at his friend’s body. He’d picked up the 9mm and had looked up and asked the lieutenant what he should say to Marie and the other man had glared angrily at him and had asked him who he felt the most sorry for; Benny, Marie, or himself? But Bobby had been so confused and upset he hadn’t really understood the question and replied that he felt sorry for everyone. He’d then been told to 'learn something from this' and to go and check on Valano, because he’d just killed a man and he was the one who needed feeling sorry for. Bobby had sensed the lieutenant was testing his loyalties, but the older man needn’t have worried, he knew he owed his colleagues a hell of a lot more than he owed Benny. Picking himself up from the floor, Bobby had gone straight to the room they’d been using for the stake-out where he’d found Valano sitting on the bed, a little shaky but otherwise OK. They’d talked for a long time and then the pair of them had gone back out into the corridor where all evidence of Benny had been cleared away. There was no sign of Marie in the lobby either. Back at the precinct he was told that Benny’s parents had already been informed of the death of their son, and Marie had been taken home. He’d phoned Molly to let her know what had happened, but apart from that he was left with nothing to do but start work on his part of the incident report.

As time passed and other cases began to take priority Bobby was still feeling out of sorts, in fact those feelings had turned to anger and resentment. How had he been so gullible? How could he not have seen Benny for the psychopath he was when it seemed everyone else had? How dare Benny have played him for a fool! How could he not have known that Arnie Naylor, Benny’s uncle was 'connected', and why had he been told to feel sorry for Valano? The man been on the force five years longer than he had, and it wasn’t as if Valano hadn’t killed before. Bobby had actually been with him when he’d shot gang leader Steve Macey; killed when attempting to steal weapons from the NYPD firing range at Pelham while dressed in a police fancy-dress costume. The first time HE’D killed someone, all he’d got from the lieutenant was a nudge to the arm and an 'it happens'. No one had checked on him afterwards to see if HE was OK. And what made Valano so damned special anyway?

He sighed and shutting off the bad thoughts got up to get some coffee. 

“Great minds think alike,” McNeil started as he walked into the room. “You look tired Bobby, are you OK?” He’d noticed that the young man had been very quiet since the incident involving his friend and was surprised Kojak hadn't mentioned anything. But then the man had been in such a foul mood lately Godzilla would have thought twice before entering the squad room.

“I’m fine sir, thank you,” Bobby replied politely. He’d wanted to say that no, he wasn’t fine; that he was damned angry and upset. His best friend, someone from whom he’d been inseparable since he was eleven years old, someone he’d sat next to in school, hung out with and chased girls with was dead and no one seemed to care, least of all the lieutenant. All HE thought about was the successful outcome of the case; Benny dead, his three henchmen in custody, and the promise of nailing Benny’s uncle, the racketeer Arnie Naylor sometime in the future. Bobby thought he ought to have visited Marie's and Benny’s parents, but on the other hand he wasn’t sure he could, not now. What would they think of him turning up now after a week? What could he say to them? He’d never felt so helpless. But at least the captain had asked if he was alright which was a lot more than anyone else had done.

In the meantime life in the squad room had returned to what passed for normal. His colleagues had gone back to playing practical jokes on one another, but he hadn’t felt like joining in and again, no one seemed to have noticed. But now here he was working through the night on his own, wishing his colleagues were still around, laughing and joking. The squad room was too damned quiet.

His headache was getting worse and was developing into a full-blown migraine. Reaching into his jacket pocket for some Tylenol he realised the packet he always carried with him was empty. Angrily he threw it in the waste bin and went downstairs to the infirmary to get a new supply. Charlie the cleaner was busy mopping the floor and came over to chat.

“You OK Crocker?” the old man asked kindly while Bobby waited for his pills. He might only be the cleaner, but Charlie missed nothing, and thought Bobby looked sad. The young man had been with the team for just about eighteen months now, and Charlie had seen a strong bond develop and grow between him and the lieutenant, but at the moment there was a gaping hole where that affection had once been.

“Just a headache Charlie,” Bobby replied, squinting against the bright lights. He was handed a fresh packet of painkillers, signed the register, thanked the duty officer, said good night to Charlie and headed back up to the squad room. A few minutes later he heard footsteps out on the landing. He looked up from his desk to see Marie standing in the doorway. She looked faded, as if the colour had been washed out of her.

“Marie!” he started, smiling, genuinely pleased to see her. Touched that she’d taken the time to come and see him considering everything, glad that she still cared. He got up and began to walk towards her, his arms outstretched to offer what comfort he could. She looked at him with hatred in her eyes. He stopped dead.

“I asked you Bobby,” she began, “I begged you, not to go after Benny, but you didn’t listen…” 

“Marie…” he began again, but stopped suddenly when he realised she’d pulled a gun from her purse and was aiming it at him.

“This is from the both of us.” She said and pulled the trigger. There was a sudden sharp pain on the upper left side of his chest and then Bobby slowly fell to the floor and everything went black. 

****

Within seconds all hell broke loose. Upon hearing the gun shot McNeil bolted out of his office and into the corridor where he found himself face to face with a young woman brandishing a .38. The officers from the booking-in desk were running up the stairs. Marie pointed the gun at the captain’s head and ordered them to back off and to provide a clear passage to the front door. McNeil gave the order, and the men retreated back to the lobby. The medical officer and Charlie poked their heads out into the corridor before quickly withdrawing back into the infirmary where they frantically began phoning for assistance.

Slowly Marie and McNeil headed along the landing toward the stairs, she was walking behind holding the gun to his head. As they passed the door he looked into the squad room and saw Crocker lying on the floor. He silently prayed that the young man was still alive and that help would arrive soon.

****

The first thing Bobby noticed when he opened his eyes was that the overhead light diffusers were full of dead bugs. He made a mental note to ask Charlie to do something about it. Then he wondered why he’d ever accepted his assignment with Manhattan South, when all the other precincts he’d visited at least had paint on the walls; some even had carpet on the floor and nice furniture. He tried to sit up, and then the pain hit. He gasped and watched as blood poured from between the fingers of his right hand which he’d placed over the wound in his chest. Molly would kill him for ruining the sweater she’d bought for him. Lying back down on the floor he could hear Marie and the captain talking; they sounded as if they were on the stairs. He looked up and noticed his gun sitting in its holster which was hanging under his jacket on the back of his chair. He reached up and between bouts of pain eventually managed to grab it. 

The next thing he had to do was to try and stand up. He wasn’t really sure what he hoped to achieve, but he couldn’t just lie there on the floor and bleed to death. He wasn’t afraid of dying, and if that was to be his fate he was damned if he'd let Marie hurt anyone else before his time came. Grabbing the handle of his desk drawer he eventually managed to pull himself into a sitting position and then almost passed out. He sat against the desk gasping for air and fighting off waves of nausea. After a few minutes he turned slightly and grabbed the top of his desk with one hand and the arm of his chair with the other. Slowly he managed to pull himself upright and feeling his knees beginning to give way sat heavily in his chair. He folded his arms on the desk and rested his head on them and listened to his heart as it raced. He saw the packet of painkillers and noted that it would take a lot more than a couple of Tylenol to kill THIS pain. 

Summoning the energy from somewhere he stood, staggered across the office and steadied himself against the hand rail in front of Rizzo’s desk, just inside the door. Looking back he noticed the blood spattered on the floor and his desk and realised that Molly wasn’t the only person who would be displeased with him today. Charlie hadn’t long cleaned the floor in the squad room, now he’d have to do it over again.

Taking a deep breath he reached for the door frame and then using the wall for support staggered across the landing to the top of the stairs and slumped down against the stair post. He jumped suddenly when he heard a shot ring out.

****

Marie and the captain reached the bottom of the stairs. One of the duty officers had positioned himself behind the small staff desk which stood in front of the booking-in counter. But she had seen the light reflecting off his badge and had fired her gun, killing the man instantly. He was only thirty, married with two small children. McNeil felt sick. He looked round the lobby area and realised there was only one other person on duty; the rest must be out on calls he realised. The young woman had evidently chosen her moment well. 

****

No one seemed to be aware of Bobby as he slowly made his way down the stairs, gripping the hand rail as tightly as he could. Every now and then he stopped for a rest, but not for too long. The pain was taking his breath away, but he gritted his teeth and kept going. He looked back the way he'd come and was really glad he was heading down the stairs and not up. He was getting weaker and his vision was blurring. 

Finally he reached the bottom and sat down on the lowest step, resting his head against the wall. A sharp jolt of pain brought him back to his senses. He must have passed out for a moment. Taking several deep breaths he grabbed the stair post and pulled himself upright. Across the room he could see Officer Ray DeMarco lying on the floor. He had only recently joined Manhattan South having spent most of his career with the 78th Precinct in Brooklyn. He’d been a good officer and a family man. Marie’s voice brought him out of his reverie. She and McNeil were over by the outer door. He released the safety catch on his gun and balancing it on top of the stair post took aim.

Marie was standing in the doorway, her back to the street outside. Captain McNeil was facing her, his back to the lobby. The way things stood Bobby didn’t have a clear shot. Even if he had, with his energy levels waning and the sweat dripping into his eyes, he wasn’t sure of hitting the wall let alone Marie, and he couldn’t be sure of not hitting the captain into the bargain. He didn’t want to kill her, just wing her enough to make her drop the gun. Taking a breath he made the decision and called out her name. 

Surprised at hearing her name being called Marie moved slightly to one side and Bobby quietly speaking the words “Lord forgive me," pulled the trigger. Everything seemed to happen at once: McNeil fell to the floor, a deep graze on his neck. Marie looked up startled as a sharp pain shot through her left arm, lost her balance and fell backwards down the outer steps. Bobby, his energy spent, dropped his gun and felt himself falling, only to be caught by something soft.

****

Living the nearest Stavros was the first of the team to reach the precinct. Carefully making his way to the door he heard the sound of a single single gun shot ring out, and saw a young woman he'd recognised as Crocker's friend Marie fall down the outer steps, her head impacting with the sidewalk. He quickly felt her neck for a pulse and found none. Running as fast as he could he pulled out his gun and charged through the door into the lobby where he saw the captain being helped up off the floor and Bobby standing over by the stairs. He could see his young friend was badly injured and close to collapse and dashed across the room to catch him, and now he was sitting on the floor holding the young man in his arms: he could see Bobby was bleeding heavily and his breathing was becoming ragged. 

“Take it easy Bobby. You’re gonna to be OK…” Stavros looked down at the young man willing him to live. “Help’s on the way… stay with me… you’re gonna to be OK…” At that moment Bobby’s eyes opened.

“Stavros?” he asked. 

“I’m here Bobby; you’re gonna to be fine. Help’s coming."

“Do something… for me?” Bobby asked. “Tell… the lieutenant… tell him I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry about what?” Stavros replied gently, but Bobby had closed his eyes again. Suddenly he gasped and winced. “Oh God, it hurts…. It really really hurts." Then he passed out.

****

When Kojak had received the call that something was happening at the precinct he was across the Hudson in Jersey City enjoying dinner with his current lady. The message just said there had been an 'incident'. Knowing Crocker was on duty he hadn’t hurried back as he was sure his detective would have everything under control by the time he made his grand entrance. However, when he arrived back he realised he couldn’t have been more wrong.

The lieutenant arrived to a scene of total chaos. An ambulance was parked out in the road, next to it was the coroner's wagon; a covered stretcher was in the process of being loaded, another was waiting nearby. He pulled one sheet down and looked upon the face of a young woman he thought he’d seen somewhere before, but couldn’t remember where. Pulling the sheet down on the other stretcher he saw the body of Officer DeMarco.

He ran into the lobby where he saw Captain McNeil sitting on a chair receiving treatment from one of the medical officers. There was deep graze on his neck.

“Frank…?”

“I’m fine Theo, it’s just a scratch. Crocker…. he saved my life...” the lieutenant followed McNeil’s gaze across the room and started to run toward the stairs. 

A small crowd of people had gathered round the ambulance crew who were busy providing CPR to their patient. Another of the precinct’s medical staff was checking on Stavros who had blood all down the front of his shirt.

“You hurt Fatso…?” Kojak began, seeing the mess.

“I’m not hurt lieutenant; it’s Bobby’s…” Stavros replied looking down at his ruined clothes and then across to his fallen friend.

Kojak looked down at the stretcher, at his wounded detective. The young man was unconscious and very pale. Blood was pouring from a wound in his chest. Perspiration shone on his face. His breathing was ragged. A portable heart monitor was beeping rapidly. One of the medics shone a light into his eyes.

“His pupils are dilated," he spoke to his partner, who was putting an oxygen mask over Bobby’s nose and mouth. 

“How is he?” the lieutenant asked.

“He’s in shock lieutenant; we need to move him now!” A blanket was placed over Bobby to keep him warm and the stretcher quickly wheeled across the lobby to the waiting ambulance. Kojak ran over to the desk and instructed the duty sergeant to locate Bobby's next of kin, before heading off with McNeil and the rest of his team to City General.

****

It had taken a couple of hours to get Bobby stabilised and now he was in surgery. The lieutenant was in the waiting area with the rest of his team. They filled him in on what had occurred. Stavros reminded him who the young woman had been. The coroner had reported that she'd died instantly from a broken neck, caused when her head had hit the sidewalk. Saperstein and Rizzo reported that they had gone upstairs to the squad room with Lieutenant Stein from the Second Team, and had ascertained that Bobby had been shot near his desk and had somehow managed to make it down to the lobby where despite being badly injured had fired the shot that had saved the captain. They’d then written the necessary notes for their report, and once Stein was satisfied had called in the crime scene clean up team. At that moment the waiting room door opened and a police officer arrived with a woman in her fifties and a girl in her late teens.

“Molly…” Theo called out giving the older woman a hug. 

“How is he Theo?” she asked. The lieutenant quickly introduced her to the rest of the team. “This is Rose, Bobby’s sister." Molly brought the young girl forward. The lieutenant kissed her hand. The poor kid looked terrified. He also noticed how different in appearance she was to her brother.

“He’s still in surgery, Molly: there’s no news yet." Kojak replied.

“Did Marie really do this?” Rose asked shakily. 

“It certainly appears that way," the lieutenant replied softly, directing the two women to some chairs by the window.

“But why?" Rose started, close to tears. 

“What’s happened to Marie? Is she in custody”? Molly asked.

“She’s dead Molly. I’m sorry." He filled the two women in on what he'd learned so far, including how Marie had died. "As for why, it looks as if she blamed Bobby for Benny’s death”.

****

It was late at night. Kojak opened the door quietly and entered the room. He walked over to the bed. Still unconscious, Bobby was lying on his back: his arms by his sides. Through the open collar of the blue hospital scrubs he was wearing Kojak could see the white dressing covering the wound in his chest. He could also see a wire that snaked across the pillow and connected to a heart monitor that was beeping regularly. An oxygen mask covered Bobby's nose and mouth: as an assist only, the doctor had told him, and on its lowest setting. The young man could breathe on his own, but just needed a little help. Both wrists were bandaged to protect the IVs that were providing vital blood and medication. Molly was standing by the window staring outside, while Rose was asleep in a chair, her hand holding her brothers’. 

“He’s peaceful,” Molly spoke quietly as she turned round. She saw the lieutenant look across at Rose," She won’t leave him Theo." 

“I’ve just been speakin' with the doctor,” he began. “The wound was nasty: a couple of inches below his left collar bone. He’s lost a lot of blood but they say that while it was a close thing, nothin' major was damaged and he should make a full recovery in time.” Molly burst into tears of relief, and the lieutenant hugged her tightly. They’d been friends for many years.

“He’s a tough kid, Molly, he’ll be OK. He might not be in the best place right now but he is a survivor. He’s like a wild animal – you can stab him, you can run over him with a car, but he’ll still somehow walk away," the lieutenant began. She smiled through her tears.

“How’s Frank?” she asked.

“A few stitches, he’ll be OK. Lillian’s taken him home.” he replied.

“I still can’t believe Marie did this, they all grew up together… How’s Bobby going to feel when he wakes up knowing that his friends tried to kill him?” Molly asked. 

To that question Kojak didn’t have an answer.

****

Throughout the night a team of doctors and nurses regularly checked on Bobby, so far they seemed pleased with his progress. Molly and Rose had slept on chairs refusing to leave, although at fifty-two Molly didn’t think sitting on a moulded plastic chair for hours on end had done her back any good. She looked across at 'her children', they were both sleeping. She noticed Bobby appeared to have more colour in his face now and touched his cheek. It was warm. She smiled. Rose stirred in her sleep and groaned with stiffness as she woke.

“Feel his cheek" Molly began. The younger woman touched her brothers face, it was warm. Last night he'd been so cold and she’d gripped his hand tightly, trying desperately to bring him some warmth. 

The door opened and a doctor and nurse arrived accompanied by an orderly who was pushing a trolley. 

“His face is warm," Rose began, “That’s good isn’t it?” 

“It’s very good”, the doctor replied. Feeling they were in the way Molly suggested she and Rose go to the hospital canteen and get something to eat. Rose reluctantly agreed. She didn’t want to leave her brother, even if he was getting better. In the waiting area they met Stavros who was sat reading a newspaper. He stood up when he saw the women approaching.

“How’s Bobby?” he asked kindly.

“The doctor’s with him now,” Molly replied, “but he seems better this morning, got some colour back in his face."

“He's warm,” Rose chipped in. Stavros smiled down at the young woman and like his lieutenant noticed how unlike her brother she was.

“That’s a good sign”, he replied. Half an hour later Molly and Rose returned. The medical team came out of Bobby’s room and over to the group. 

“He’s much better this morning,” the doctor began, “his heart rate is good and strong, he's breathing on his own, and his blood pressure's almost normal. He’s got a slight infection, but we can sort that out with antibiotics. The orderly’s tidying him up a bit and then you can go back in.”

****

Lieutenant Theo Kojak sat at his desk looking at nothing in particular. A few hours earlier he’d arrived back at the precinct and had walked through the squad room where the smell of the chemicals the clean-up team had used immediately assailed his senses. He'd stopped and rested his hands on Crocker's desk, and realised how close he’d come to losing his young detective, a man he’d come to see almost as a son. It scared him. 

The moment Moishe had told him that Crocker and Benny had grown up together, that they’d been tight friends, alarm bells had begun to ring in his head. He should have known Crocker would be torn between loyalty to his friend and to his colleagues. He had felt bad for pushing, but he needn’t have worried. Crocker had proven where his loyalties lay when it mattered, and when the young man had told him that he’d be finished as a cop if he dropped out of a case just because it was personal, Kojak had never felt more proud of him. The kid had come a long way. Crocker wasn’t the first cop to have a friend go bad and sadly he wouldn't be the last. 

“You OK, Theo?” McNeil asked from the doorway. 

“Now what are you doin' here Frank?” Kojak answered.

“I couldn’t sleep. I keep reliving the whole thing in my head." McNeil came into the room and sat in the chair in front of the lieutenant’s desk. “Do you know what Crocker said just before he fired the shot? He said 'Lord forgive me'. I’m sure the good Lord will be forgiving, but I'm worried that he won’t be able to forgive himself. I keep telling myself he’s a tough kid; that we’ve all been through something like this… Is there any word from the hospital?” The lieutenant shook his head. 

****

Molly and Rose went back to Bobby’s room, a faint smell of soap lingered in the air. He was still unconscious, but the heart monitor and oxygen mask were gone. Someone had given him a wash and shave and had brushed his hair. She sat and watched him for a while, her hand in his. He was breathing gently and regularly as if merely asleep. Some time later a nurse arrived and disconnected the blood bottle. Rose winced when she saw the length of the needle as it was pulled from her brother's wrist. Another IV was swapped for a small glass bottle containing a clear liquid. She assumed it was the antibiotics the doctor had mentioned earlier. Continuing to watch her brother as the nurse rebandaged his wrist she heard him take a deep breath and noticed his eyes were slightly open.

“Bobby?” she called quietly. Rose looked at Molly and then back at her brother. 

“Bobby? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me," she called out softly, and was rewarded with a slight movement of his hand in hers. The nurse gently called his name. 

“Detective Crocker, can you hear me?” she asked. She watched as he looked in the direction of her voice and tried to focus his eyes, but finally he gave up and closed them again. “He’ll probably drift in and out for a while, give him time.”

****

He felt as if he were climbing out of a deep pit towards a place where he knew there were people who loved him, but he didn’t have the strength to reach them and kept slipping back into the darkness. Finally, after a huge effort, he succeeded and found himself in a place filled with noise and light. He could hear familiar voices calling to him. He opened his eyes.

He was lying on something soft and wondered in his confusion how anyone could have laid carpet in the squad room without tripping over him. Movement to his right caught his attention and he tried to focus on the blue fuzzy object next to him which finally became his foster mother.

“Molly?” he asked quietly. 

“I’m here Hon," Molly replied stroking his hair. She pressed the call button at the side of the bed. He looked up at the tubes and bottles. 

Where am I? What's happened to me?" he asked. 

"You're in the hospital," Molly replied gently. "You've been hurt." She and Rose had been told earlier not to upset him once he regained consciousness, particularly with regards to who'd shot him. 

I don't understand," he replied. 

"I know you don't," Molly replied tearfully. He turned his head. 

“Rosie?” he croaked. His sister held his hand to her face and kissed it and then burst into tears. He reached up and gently stroked her face, “It’s OK, I’m not going anywhere, I promised, remember?” He added quietly, reminding her of the promise he’d made when they were children to always be there for his little sister. 

The door opened and the doctor arrived in response to Molly's call. He asked the two women to leave the room while he checked Bobby over and gently questioned him.

“Well, you’ve given everyone quite a scare Detective Crocker. But you’ve been very lucky, and with a lot of rest, it looks as if you’re going to be fine.”

“Does that mean I can go home now?” Bobby asked weakly but cheekily. The doctor smiled.

“Not for a few days at least, I'm afraid. You've suffered a serious injury and have lost a lot of blood. For now you need to rest,” he replied. 

Bobby smiled softly and closed his eyes. 

****

Kojak put the phone down and lit a cigarette. The ashtray on his desk was full of butt's. The rest of the squad were standing in the doorway, having refused to go home. 

“That was the hospital, Crocker’s awake. He’s gonna be OK. He's weak and doesn't remember much about what happened, but they say that's probably down to the meds and like that...” Everyone let out a sigh of relief and chatting happily, wandered slowly back to their desks 

Hearing a noise, the lieutenant looked up to find Charlie the cleaner standing in the doorway.

“How’s Crocker?” the old man asked.

“We’ve just heard Charlie; looks like he’s gonna be OK.” McNeil replied.

“That’s great," Charlie continued, “he’s looked so sad since his friend died, he tried to hide it, but I saw. He talks with his eyes you know lieutenant, like my old lady used to, God rest her soul. People like them; they say a lot more with their eyes than they do with their voices. Well I’ll go now. I’m glad he's gonna to be OK.” And with that the old man headed off toward the stairs, his message delivered.

“Charlie’s right Theo,” McNeil broke the silence. “I spoke to Crocker just before… he’s been very quiet since his friend was killed. I also noticed he didn’t ask for time off to attend the funeral.”

“He probably thought I’d yell at him if he did,” the lieutenant replied. "You know, Crocker asked Stavros to tell me he was sorry." 

"Sorry for what?" McNeil asked. 

"I don't know Frank." Kojak replied.

“Well you could be a little nicer to him Theo, the kid works damned hard for you. A 'well done' to him or any of the men wouldn’t go amiss once in a while.” McNeil began.

“I’m not here to be nice Frank, I’m here to do my job. In case you've forgotten it’s not a very nice world out there!” Kojak replied, sharper than he intended.

“I know that Theo, but you’ll get more out of your team if they feel valued. Think about it. In the meantime I can smell coffee. I’m going to get something to eat and then I’m going to do some work.” And with that the captain got out of his chair and headed back to his office, via the squad room coffee machine.

****

Sometimes he liked to sit and think and do nothing. People would ask what he was thinking about, and he would say he wasn’t thinking about anything. He might have been meditating and not know it, but he wasn’t thinking about anything. Bobby was sitting up in bed, propped up with pillows, his eyes closed, his breathing relaxed, his left arm in a sling. He’d been in the hospital for a couple of days, sleeping mostly, and today had been his first time out of bed. But something else had happened today. Now that his medication had been reduced his brain was less 'foggy' and he was starting to remember. Images flashed through his mind: seeing Benny again after all these years, Marie coming to the Squad Room to ask him to stay away, and Benny firing a gun at him. He saw himself aiming his gun at someone across the precinct lobby, then Stavros was holding him, telling him everything would be alright and staying with him until help arrived. Everything was so confused. He'd finally been told he'd been shot, but had no idea who'd shot him, and no one else seemed to know either. He wondered what had happened to Marie. He hoped she was alright. Despite everything he still cared about her and still felt bad for not having gone to see her after Benny had died. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind. 

****

The following morning Bobby was taken for a short walk along the corridor outside his room, and after a short nap and lunch, which he hadn't eaten, he was allowed to sit in the chair by the window, but although he was looking out he wasn't admiring the view. After a restless night he now remembered everything that had occurred. Saperstein and Rizzo had called in earlier on their way to work and Bobby had enquired after Marie, but they'd managed to evade the question and change the subject: something Bobby hadn't missed even in his weakened state. 

The door opened and Molly walked into the room accompanied by Stavros who was carrying a tape recorder. The doctor had spoken with Kojak earlier and told him that Bobby was well enough to provide a statement as long as they went easy on him. 

“Did we wake you?” his friend asked kindly, pulling up a couple of chairs. Bobby shook his head. Molly bent down to kiss him on the cheek and realised from the look in his eyes that something had happened. She gently squeezed his hand. 

"I remember it all: I remember everything," he said quietly. 

“The lieutenant asked me to get a statement from you, if you’re up to it,” Stavros began. Bobby continued to stare out of the window. He nodded. He'd been expecting this and had spent the previous few hours organising his thoughts, preparing. Stavros set up the tape recorder and switched it on. Slowly Bobby told his friend what had happened, and answered the questions the lieutenant had instructed the other man to ask. Once again he asked if Marie was alright, and once again his question went unanswered.

After half an hour and sensing Bobby was tiring Stavros switched off the recorder. He’d got all the information he needed, the lieutenant and the captain would be satisfied. Gently he helped Molly settle his friend back onto the bed and headed back to the precinct. For a long while Bobby stayed quiet, but Molly could see that he was thinking. 

“She’s dead, isn’t she.” He simply stated. Molly looked at him and nodded.

“I’m so sorry Hon.” Molly replied. She told him what had happened to Marie.

“I killed her…” Bobby continued, his voice breaking. Molly at on the bed next to him and putting her arms round him held him close, her own heart aching, as he sobbed for his lost friends. In all the time she'd known him she'd never once seen him cry, until today. After a while she felt his weight increase and realised he’d cried himself to sleep. Gently she pushed him back into the pillows and pulled the blanket up and placed it over him. 

****

Bobby stood at the rail and looked up at the altar with its ornate gold cross, and candles burning brightly in their holders. There had once been a pair of small golden angels, but one had been stolen years before, by a young man who had wanted to give something special to the girl he loved. The funeral mass for Benny and Marie had been held earlier that day. The families had decided that they should be buried together and the church had been filled with flowers in all shades of pink and yellow; Marie and Benny’s favourite colours. Although both sets of parents had enquired after him, and didn’t blame him in any way for what had occurred, Bobby still blamed himself and didn’t think it right that he should attend the service. Captain McNeil had also put him in for a commendation, but he’d turned it down. Although he'd later been told that the captain had overridden that decision. 

Although his left arm was still in a sling, his wound was healing well and he’d finally been discharged from the hospital after a week and was currently staying with Molly. She wouldn’t be pleased if she knew he’d gone AWOL, but there was something he needed to do. He walked up the steps and stood in front of the altar and reaching into his coat pocket with his good hand, pulled out a small gold angel and placed it upon the table next to its twin. Not realising what it was, Marie’s parents had given it to Molly to give to him as a memento, but Bobby had immediately recognised it and knew where it belonged.

“I saw him take it," a soft Irish voice spoke from behind him. “Somehow I knew you would be the one to bring it back.” Bobby turned to see Father Patrick Ryan standing at the rail." How are you Bobby?”

“I’m fine thank you Father.” Bobby replied. The priest directed him to a seat.

“I didn’t see you at the service.” Father Ryan continued. He had known Bobby since he was a boy and knew how much his faith meant to him, but now he could see conflict in the young man’s face.

“I didn’t think it would be right." Bobby replied softly.

“You shouldn’t blame yourself Bobby…” the priest began.

“Who else can I blame?” Bobby retorted."

“It’s not your fault Marie and Benny became the people they did, Bobby. They did that to themselves, and as I understand it Benny had already killed before he tried to kill you at the motel. The gentleman at the disco.”

“But I shot her, Father!” Bobby replied. “Marie might still be alive if…”

“And your captain might be dead. You saved life that day Bobby, you didn’t take it. Did you fire at her intending to kill?” Father Ryan asked.

“No, I only wanted to wing her, make her drop the gun.” Bobby replied sadly, a tear running down his face. He angrily wiped it away.

“And that’s what you did. You couldn’t have known what would happen to her afterwards." It’s not up to us to lay blame, that’s for Him to decide. You’re a good person Bobby; you value life, all life, as it should be. You used the necessary means to try and stop her in order to save others. You’re not a murderer." The priest continued. Bobby sat quietly for a while and then said,

“A good man once told me that charity is learning how to forgive others; wisdom is knowin' how to forgive yourself."

“Artie?” the priest asked, referring to Bobby's late foster father. Bobby nodded. “Perhaps you should listen to him." They sat in silence for a few minutes.

“You know, the first time I came into this church, I thought it was the most wonderful place in the world, it was like magic.” Bobby began, looking at the altar. The priest stood up.

“Come, join me. Let us pray for fallen friends." Bobby joined Father Ryan at the altar rail and the priest offered his prayer. When he finished he kissed the young man on the top of his head. “You’re a wise man Robert Crocker, be at peace.” The two men looked at one another for a long time, before Bobby finally nodded and smiled.

****

For companions to this story, go to 'Nemesis' and 'Moving on'. 


End file.
